Fix Me
by Amaroqwolf
Summary: Phil Brooks tries to stay off the grid, but he keeps getting dragged back into a life he wants nothing to do with.  Will he be able to stand on his own two feet or will he fall along the way?
1. Lost in the Light

Title: Fix me  
>Author: Amaroqwolf<br>Synopsis: Punk is fine how he is, he doesn't need any help fixing himself, or does he?  
>Pairing: PunkZiggler

Author's notes: Been trying to figure out how to do this pairing for awhile, and then I was sitting here all by my lonesome and this idea popped into my head. This may end up longer then one chapter, will just have to wait and see.

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><em>It's taken a life time to lose my way<br>A life time of yesterday  
>All the wasted time on my hands<br>Turns to sand, and fades in the wind  
>Crossing lines, small crimes<br>Taking back what is mine_

Phillip Jack Brooks sat silenlty on the bench in the middle of the Police precint, he wasn't at this point in time really all that sure of where he was. The last place he had a clear memory of his life was about 3 maybe 4 years ago. But, that was the past and the past didn't matter to him right at the moment. No in fact right now mattered and he had no clue where he was right now. And that could be bad, his eyes drifted to his right hand which was handcuffed to the bench, he could see his knuckels which hurt they were busted open blood smeared on them. He wondered briefly if it was his blood or someone elses. A woman walked by, she was pretty but she hid it well under her uniform, her dark hair was pulled back in a bun, and her clothes while unflattering didn't completely hide her nice shape, good hips, nice breasts, but her face was what caught his eye.

"Excuse me," he croaked and oh man did his throat hurt, like amazingly painfully bad. He swallowed slowly testing the pain and figured someone must of either punched him or strangled him. "Excuse me," he tried again.

The woman paused and with a tired sounding sigh turned and looked at him, just like he expected she would, like he was dirt on her shoe. "What?" she asked her voice which should of dripped like honey was cold as ice.

"Uh...where am I?"

She let out a laugh which did have a hint of that honey he expected she reserved to those special to her. "you're back home in chicago Punk...we finally caught up with you," She snorted.

Chicago, oh no no no that was not good, Chicago was home to his mom, and his dad and his family and those were people he didn't want to see really. But what was worse Chicago was also home to a group of people he REALLY didn't want to see.

"Fuck fuck fuck,"

She smirked and let out yet another laugh still unable to hide the honey but Phil couldn't exactly find himself careing about the honey anymore, as he'd turned inside to the inner turmoil in his head now. Not even seeing when the officer walked away and left him alone again, he never even got to ask for a drink, or his one phone call, not that he knew anyone to call but hell what the fuck he could give it a try. Oh what did it fucking matter he was so screwed now anyways. Not screwed, fucked royally, anally and it wouldn't be pleasurable at all. He lowered his head ignoring his long black locks as they fell into his face, trying to think, trying to form a plan, trying to figure out a way to escape.

But his brain skipped a few million beats and suddenly he was staring across the table at a big man, with an even bigger nose. Who kept calling himself Detective Helmsley. Why on earth was that name so fucking farmiler he kept trying to work it out in his head, but the nose kept pushing and pushing and pushing.

"Will you shut up I'm trying to think!" He suddenly snapped at the guy.

"And that's always what gets you in trouble phillip, this time were doing the thinking for you," He said.

"I don't work for you anymore," He responded.

"No but you do still have a contract with some friends of ours," He smirked knowingly and Phil's heart if he still had one sank.

"No," He responded clenching his fists.

"You can't say no Phillip you don't have a choice,"

"I don't even remember how to do any of that!" He cried indignent.

"Well you better start remembering because once we get you presentable enough you're heading to see Mr. McMahon,"

"No," He repeated.

"You listen here you little shit! You fucked up! And you fucked up GOOD this time, you either do as you're told or will send you somewhere no one will ever find you ever!"

Phil was quite for a long time, a very very long time then he sighed his shoulders slumping he nodded. "Can I have a fucking Diet Pepsi please?" He asked softly giving in for the moment, eventually he'd get the chance to run. Eventually he'd run again and loose himself in the mess of his mind and forget this world and promises to people who were now dead because of him.

The Nose smirked knowing he'd won that battle, smirk all you want asshole, there's still a war to be won, and I'm gonna win it come hell or high fucking water. He slumped down on the seat crossing his arms over his thin chest not saying a word until a bottle of soda was put down in front of him. He opened it and sniffed it instinctively.

"We didn't drug it Phillip!" Helmsly snapped.

"Never know with you guys," He responded before taking a drink.

Helmsley let out a laugh and shook his head. "I am so glad I'm turning you over to McMahon." He snorted. "Maybe they can get yer damn paranoia under control." 

"I like my Paranoia, its keeps me company on the cold nights," Phil smirked he wasn't paranoid he knew how the world worked. He always knew ever sense he was a little kid and his family had been like a volcano waiting to go off. Always go through life making no noise, no disturbance on the surface, keep everything under wraps. That was the best way to survive life.

Helmsley looked at him intently for a long time. "Is there anything else you want?" He asked. "its going to be a long night."

"No,"

"You're not hungry?"

"No,"

"Fine,"

And like that the nose was gone headed off to do whatever it was he did when he wasn't in Phil's face. He rubbed at his forehead and rested it on the table trying desperately to figure out exactly how he'd ended up here.

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"Hunter he's drugged out of his mind, he didn't even know where he is!" The woman who had spoken to Phil earlier said with a groan. "There's no way he can get past their guards,"

"Detective Torrez, he'll do just fine," He said calmly. "He's supposed to be on Medication for his memory issues, but when he goes off the grid its kinda hard for him to stay on them," He responded. "Were lucky we found him,"

She shook her head. "I don't think this is a good idea, he could endanger the whole program, and what about Nick?" She asked looking worried.

"Nick, knows how to handle himself, and Punk knows how to handle himself" He said. "Vince will get Punk back on his meds and will set him to work and soon enough Nick will be home with you every night."

She sighed softly. "I don't like this one bit Hunter," She said softly.

"Eve, I know you don't like this." He said.

"I hate that he's gone all the time," She responded. "I never see him anymore, and when I do, he's different he's not my Nick anymore," She sighed.

"Of course not he's playing his part, what if he gets dragged in here and starts acting all buddy buddy with us?" he asked. "He'll be dead before the day was over."

She sighed nodding. "I know, its just sucks," She said looking in the window again at the man who was slowly banging his head off the table and obviously talking to himself. "Are you sure he can fix this?" She asked.

"I know for 100% Sure he can fix this, he's one of them." He said with a grin. "Like I said, Vince will get him back on his meds and will send him in and everything will be fine," He said.

She sighed softly then nodded. "Alright, if you're sure."

"Positive," He responded.

She took a deep breath. "I'll go send the call to Vince then," She said and slipped out of the room with out another word. Hunter watched her go then looked back into the room where Punk was now ranting at the bottle of diet pepsi.

I hope I'm right," He mumbled. "I really really hope I'm right," He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest watching the younger man silently.

TBC...

A/N: Yep! This is more then one chapter! Woo hoo! LMAO! Read and Review folks. 


	2. The Christian, The Viper and The Edge

_I'm fine in the fire  
>I feed on the friction<br>I'm right where I should be  
>Don't try and fix me<em>

Nick, or Dolph as he was called these days sat studying his nails silently, neat clean squared off at the edges. He mused over his nails for a few more minutes then looked up at the red head standing in front of his desk. "What now?" He asked arching an eyebrow.

"The police, they picked Punk up last night," The Red head said looking nervous.

"Really?" Dolph arched an eyebrow feigning no further interest. "Was he on his medication?"

"He didn't even know he was being arrested," The red head responded scratching at his arms.

"When's the last time you had a fix?" Dolph asked looking amused at the red heads fidgeting.

"I don't know...uh, yesterday sometime I think," He nodded uncertainly.

Dolph nodded slowly leaning back and studying his other hand now. "Go find Wade and tell him I wish to speak with him," he stated calmly.

The red head blinked it was obvious he thought that Dolph was going to hook him up, but he quickly nodded and hurried out of the office leaving the platinum blond alone with his own thoughts Once he was sure he was alone he nudged the mouse and the computer screen before him came to life. He leaned forward and typed quickly.

**Phillip Jack Brooks.**

**AKA C.M. Punk.**

**Last known whereabouts: Mason City, Oklahoma.**

**Presumed dead.**

"So your survived the assassins huh Philly old boy?" Dolph mused looking interested flipping through the photos they had of the man simply known as Punk. He shook his head smirking a little he glanced up and close the file at a knock on his door. "Come in," He called.

The british brawler stepped into the room and stared down at Dolph with a condescending pompous air to him. "You rang Ziggler?" He asked his accent thick as always.

Dolph's eyes travled up the big man then past him to the small skinny blond man standing just behind his left shoulder. If he didn't know better he'd just assume this was one of the brits pets, but in truth he knew how much more dangerous the blond was then the brit. The Brit put fear into men, the blond put men into the ground with out ever touching them. The blond was good, the blond scared the shit out of him.

"Yes, for you not him," He nodded at the blond.

"Christian is one of me mates, he goes everywhere with me, Deal with it." He said calmly.

Dolph sighed and nodded. "I was just given some interesting news,"

"If it came from that red headed git, I'd be hard pressed to believe it," he laughed.

"Yeah, when it concerns one CM Punk.." he saw Christian tense. "I tend to believe it, I've been told the guy is harder to kill the a cockroach,"

"Yeah, I've heard." he said. "what about him?"

"Well, he's alive..probably not very well," He tapped the side of his head. "And here in Chicago,"

"Shit," Christian spoke for the first time.

"Emm, hmmm." Dolph nodded looking at Wade.

"Well then we just go off him before he can spill to the police where is he?" He asked.

"The police have him,"

"Fuck," Again this from Christian.

"Man of few words but smart,"

"Is he on his medications?" Wade asked.

"No knowing that until someone gets close him," Dolph responded.

"Someone unassuming I'm guessing?" He asked.

"We you and Mr. personality can't go waltzing into the local precinct now can you?" Dolph laughed.

"and neither can you" Wade smirked.

Dolph sighed softly looking away from the Brit and his little blond freak trying to clear his head and come up with a solid plan to get Punk back under his roof and under his thumb. He sighed softly and looked back at Wade and Christian. "We need him here and soon," He said.

"Preferably before they get him back on his medication?" Christian asked calmly.

"Yes, preferably," He responded.

Christian looked thoughtful for a few moments then smiled that cold chilling smile of his. "I know somebody who can help us,"

Dolph arched an eyebrow uncertainty welling in his stomach. "who?"

Instead of answering him the blond turned to Wade whispering in the Brits ear, and Dolph's unease rose quickly with each passing second as the bigger man's smile grew wider and wider. "Jason says that he can contact Orton," he said mildly.

Dolph tensed his unease was true, Orton was a man he'd rather not deal with, better known as The Viper the man was dangerous. "I'd rather keep this in the family,"

"But he is family," Christian grinned manically

"No," He stated simply. "No Orton,"

"Chicken shit," Christian clucked with a laugh.

"I said no, now drop it,"

"Someone's afraid of the big Bad Viper," Christian teased.

"I will cut his damn tongue out if he doesn't shut up," Dolph snapped.

"Jason," Wade chided gently but The blond could tell Barrett was amused by Christian's teasing. "Will go keep an eye on the station then," He said turning calmly.

"Yes, that's fine." Dolph said watching them leave. "Fucking assassins," He mumbled once the room was empty.

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Blood dripped slowly down his fingers as he stepped back from his father's latest victim, he flexed his hands the dried blood cracked and the fresh blood dripped to the floor.

"Go clean yourself up Randall," Bob Orton stated stated stepping between The Viper and his victim. "I'll finish up here,"

Randy's jaw popped for a second as he glared holes into the back of the old man's head then he took another step back before walking away to the sink in the corner of the garage where he began to scrub at his hands. He watched the blood swirl down the drain he pulled his knife from his pocket and slowly picked the blood from under his nails cleaning the knife he dried it on the hand towel and placed it back into his pocket before he began drying his hands he heard the soft pop of a silenced pistol and turned back.

The man he'd been torturing was dead, the lifelessness in his eyes gave that way. Bob Orton looked pissed but he looked at his two goons. "Dispose of that waste," He snarled icily the two men grabbed the body and dragged it off to do as they were told as Bob looked at his son, his pet project really he smirked at Randy. "You were very artistic tonight Randall,"

"I've been reading," The bronzed and inked man said staring coldly at his father.

"I like it, keep it up...you got the information from him much sooner then I thought you would," Bob said patting the broad shoulder of The Viper. "Lets get out of here, I'm starving," He concluded. "Are you hungry?"

He nodded his assent that yes he was hungry, killing always made him hungry.

"Good good, lets go," Bob said walking out quickly heading towards the waiting Limo who quickly drove away from the site of his most recent torture and murder both men unaware they were being watched.

The long haired blond shifted on the roof of the building and pulled his cell phone flipping it open he sent a text.

_I found The Viper, instructions?_

A few moments passed and his phone beeped in response.

_Unwanted at this time, but don't loose him, Dolph's mind will most likely Change...Punk is back._

The Blond shifted and gazed down at the Limo holding up the camera he zoomed in on the plates and took a picture then texted the information to his eye in the sky. Sending a text to them.

_Information needed on final destination, need to know where they live._

A text shot back almost instantly.

_Cake and pie._

The blond eyed the car silently for several minutes until it pulled away then smirked blue eyes dancing with amusement.

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TBC...

Yeah, um...any clue where I'm going with any of this? LMAO! I don't know! Ahhhh Who else is gonna show up in this damn fic! Wow, okay! Anyways! More to come on this, and on Only in my mind and Letters to an end. I just needed to get this idea going cause its just Stewing and boiling in my brain!

YAY! Please Read and Review it makes my Day!

Amaroqwolf. __


	3. All the color's of the Rainbowed Viper

_I'm fine in the fire  
>I feed on the friction<br>I'm right where I should be  
>Don't try and fix me<em>

_So lost for so long to find to my way  
>I failed to follow, I'm out of place<em>

The house was huge, if you didn't know about the 4th floor and its hidden rooms it didn't really make much sense to have a floor specifically for the Master bedroom. The Viper left Bob Orton behind with his wife when they reached the house and climbed the stairs slowly. To come to the fourth floor of this huge house if you were not a member of the agency was to warrant a slow and painful death, even the servants didn't step foot beyond the 3rd floor. Master Randall was expected and he did, to keep that floor clean. Nobody questioned him taking trays of food up toe the 4th floor. The servants knew better then to question Randall.

Randy paused at the top of the stairs looking down the long hallway before heading down it and into his room. He shut the door tight not locking it because he had no concerns about Bob Orton or any of them idiots bothering him. But, still there was a chance some nosy maid would come up. He'd deal with her just as he had the last idiot who had come into his room. He stripped naked studying himself silently in the mirror making notes in his head of what he needed to work on. Once he was done he showered quickly and changed into fresh clothes and left his room.

If you didn't know about the forth floor, you didn't know about the hidden rooms. The agency in which The Viper and Bob Orton worked for, knew of the rooms but didn't really care beyond one room. That room was an important room. He pressed on the wall and a small panel slid open he punched in a code and the wall slid open revealing a large room.

"Randy!" Jeff was on his feet moving towards the bigger man quickly.

Randy stepped through and let the door slid shut behind him and he sighed softly moving to sit down on the huge plush chair pressed under the window. The younger man liked to look out the window, and Randy couldn't deny him that. Jeff stared at him silently then slowly moved over and climbed into the chair with the bigger man.

"What happened?" He asked softly.

He closed his eyes not speaking at all just breathing slowly.

"Was it work again?" Jeff asked shifting around and resting his colorful head on the broad shoulder of the Viper.

He nodded slowly.

"What happened?" The smaller man asked gazing up raptly at The Viper running a soothing hand up and down the bigger man's chest.

Randy's eyes opened slowly and he tilted his gaze down to look at the other man then slowly he began to speak giving all the details to his fellow prisoner. Slowly as he spoke the iron walls holding everything in check fell away and soon tears fell from his cold blue eyes. With Jeff's gentle and soothing touch it was like it opened doors that had been locked all his life. He'd never known a gentle word, a soft touch. Everything was viciousness, anger, coldness. Things to raise a good strong Viper, into a cold hearted killing machine.

But, Jeff saw beyond that to the genteel soul that lay buried under bronzed skin, hard muscle and black ink. The smaller man wasn't far removed from the way The Viper was raised, he didn't even really have a name anymore. Sure he had a birth name just like The Viper did, called Randy or Randall, Jeff was Jeff or Jeffrey, to avoid suspicions, but his code name, the name the agency gave him was Enigma. Randy had watched the man work, watched him grow up, he was just as dangerous if not more so then The Viper.

Randy knew this had all been done by Bob Orton the man who claimed to be his father as an act of revenge on a former agency member. The man, Gilbert Hardy had come to Bob and begged him to protect his young son, then only 4 years old. When Gilbert had been put down by the agency, Bob Orton locked Jeffrey up in one of the privet rooms and began training him. Turning him into just another pawn of The Agency's.

But, there was something that could not be trained out of the smaller man, empathy, caring for the living creature. Sure he'd kill who he was told to, but it didn't mean he was happy about it. When Randy discovered he could go to Jeff and tell him things, when he coule release the turmoil in his brain it made him feel better. Which was why just 2 years ago he'd helped Punk escape the agency, he'd made it look like Punk had gotten the better of him, but in truth he'd taken the heavily sedated man to a bus depot and paid big bucks to send the man as far away from the city as he could. If Bob or The Agency ever found out, well he was as good as dead.

He knew it, Jeff knew it, and they kept each other secrets.

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Punk slowly stirred awake at the sound of a farmiler voice outside the cell he'd been moved to the night before. He slowly opened his eyes a crack watching the two cops who'd been set up to watch him, argue with a tall long haired blond. He tensed he was in trouble now, big trouble. He spied the counterpart, the ever silent christian standing near the door staring at him intently. Big trouble.

"Look," Edge said marrily not even put off by the two cops in the least. "We have orders from THE MAYOR to get him and take him to the instituite," He said calmly.

"I'm sorry you just have to wait for Detective Helmsley to verfie the order." The younger of the two said looking uncertain.

"I don't have to wait for anything, you either open that door or I'll have your jobs," Edge said nastily now, no longer playing nice.

"or your lives," Punk mumbled shaking his head to clear it a little.

"Shut it!" Edge snapped pointing at him.

"Or what? You'll talk me to death?" He snorted. "I'd get out of here if I were you boys, he means buisness with that big old chin of his."

The two cops laughed and was that a shudder of mirth from Christian, maybe things weren't as bad as he thought. He really should probably shut up though, because eventually Edge would get his way and then it would be him, and his crazy head alone against the other man. In his state health wise he wasn't sure he could take on the blond.

"I said shut it," Edge said getting closer to the bars glaring at him.

"Why don't you come in here and make me," He responded a wicked grin playing across his sharp featured face.

"You rat," Edge snipped.

"Ooo did you bring me cheese?" He asked looking hopeful.

Edge moved even closer his tone deadly dangerous, "You'll see what I brought you soon enough," he smirked.

"I'm shaking here, just shaking," He grinned at him.

"You should be," He turned back to the two officers. "So come on open up,"

In truth Edge wasn't kidding when he said Punk should be shaking, he should be, he should be absolutely terrified of what The blond duo had been told to do with him. But in a way, it was a relief because in most likely hood he'd been killed and finally his brain would shut the hell up. He suddenly started hitting himself before shaking his head to clear it.

"Yeah Open up I wanna make out with my boyfriend," Punk teased with a laugh grinning more when he saw more mirth from Christian, something had changed there in the 2 years while he'd been gone.

"I said shut up!" Edge fumed grabbing for him through the cell which he quickly jumped back as the two cops moved Edge back, who looked as if he was going to bash the man's heads in until a simple touch from Christian settled him. "When does Helmsly get back?" he asked.

"Now," Said the nose from the doorway.

"I have orders from the mayor that you release this man into our custody now," Edge said holding out his oh so important papers.

This was the beginning of the end, Punk thought watching as the Detective read over the paperwork seeing if it was in order, and knowing The Agency and Jericho it would be. He never screwed up his official papers from the Mayor he was to smart for that. Punk's seconds were ticking away.

Helmsley looked over the paper work silently for several long moments then glanced over the top of the paperwork at Punk who had slumped down on the bench in the cell rubbing at his temples his fingers sliding through his hair. "These look to be in order," He stated calmly watching the smaller mans shoulders slump

"Of course they are," Edge said looking smugly at the two cops.

"We were just doing our jobs," One of them spoke up.

"Yes, they were I told them to keep an eye on him," Helmsley cut in. "But sense all of this is in order You can take him and go."

Edge smirked. "Well open the damn cell so we can," He said.

The cops looked uncertain but did as they were told and Edge stalked in leaning in close to Punk. "Welcome home punkers, hope you liked your time away," He grabbed the brunette and dragged him from the cell. "See ya around," He said shoving Punk towards Christian.

Blue eyes met green and for a split second Punk swore he saw pity in the older man's eyes and then he was being shoved quickly through the precinct and out into a familiar white van. He slumped in the seat closing his eyes ignoring Christian as he was restrained quickly with in the van. As Edge quickly drove them away.

What did it matter now...he was as good as dead anyways...

TBC.

So question to anyone reading this? I want to continue this? But besides 2 reviews it dosn't seem very many people are interested in it. So should I continue this? 


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